THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 


THE   COLLECTION  OF 
NORTH   CAROLINIANA 


UK3 

1833 

Hill 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


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ADDRESS 

DELIVERED  AT  CHAPEL.  HILL, 


TBE  NORTH  OAROLZNA 


iifS3ffi5fw^a  mw  mm^^A'^^mm^ 


ON  Wli;DNESDAY,  JUNE  36,  1833, 


THE  DAY  BEFORE  THE  COMMENCEMENT  OF  THE  UNIVERSITY. 


JSlk^  jroSJElJ^ff  ^.  tm^JL,  luSQ. 


CHA.PEIi  Hllili, 

Printed  by  Isaac  C.  Patmt,  -l,  at  the  Harbinger  Office. 

'  1833. 


^flr.  President^  ^ 

Gentlemen  of  the  Institute^ 

I  propose  to  submit  a  few  thoughts  upon  the  importance  of 
a  thorough  Education,  and  upon  the  modes  of  discipline  and  instruc- 
tion, which  seem  to  me  best  adapted  to  that  object.  In  our  zeal  for  uni- 
versal education,  we  have,  I  apprehend,  withheld  from  this  subject  that 
degree  of  attention  which  its  importance  may  justly  claim.     We  have 
been  less  solicitous  to  learn  how  the  youth  of  our  country  may  be  best 
trained  to  virtue,  and  instructed  in  wisdom,  than  to  ascertain  by  what 
means  the  greatest  number  may  be  educated  in  the  shortest  time,  and 
at  the  least  ex;:ense.     In  adjusting  a  system  of  general  and  gratuitous 
instruction,  the  economy  of  time  and  money  is  certainly  a  considera* 
tion  not  to  be  overlooked.     But  the  parent  who  would  secure  for  his 
son  the  benefits  of  a  complete  education — who  would  have  him  care- 
fully trained  to  virtue,  and  thoroughly  imbued  with  learning,  must  be 
content  to  forego  his  claims  upon  his  time,  and  to  afford  him  the  means 
of  access  to  the  best  sources  of  knowledge.     Nothing,  indeed,  is  more 
to  be  leprecated  than  the  anxiety,  so  often  manifested,  to  abridge  the 
period  of  instruction.     It  argues  either  an  imperfect  notion  of  what 
constitutes  an  education,  or  an  insufficient  estimate  of  its  value.     Is 
the  time  wasted  which  is  devoted  t-i  the  acquisition  of  knowledge? — 
Could  it  be  more  profitably  employed,  whether  we  consider  the  good 
of  society,  or  the  happiness  of  the  individual,  than  in  a  course  of  in- 
struction by  which  the  mind  is  enriched  with  knowledge  and  trained 
to  habits  of  correct  thinking  and  assiduous  application,  or  in  a  course 
of  moral  culture,   by  which  the  heart  is  improved — its  affections  che- 
rished— its  passsions  disciplined — its  waywardness  restrained?  Whence 
;    then  the  anxiety  to  save  time,  as  it  is  called?  One  would  think  that  the 
child  is  sent  to  school,  not  in  search  of  wisdom,  but  in  reluctant  con- 
formity to  a  usage  of  society  which  the  parent  does  not  entirely  ap- 
.    prove,  and  yet  wants  firmness  wholly  to  disregard;  as  the  devotees  of 
pleasure  frequent  our  medicinal  springs,  not  to  imbibe  their  healing 
waters,  but  that  they  may  not  be  excluded  from  the  circles  of  fjisbion. 


One  would  think  too,  from  the  rapidity  with  which  the  pupil  is  some- 
times hurried  through  a  course  of  instruction — from  the  marvellous 
short  time  in  which  a  raw  and  ignorant  boy  becomes  a  ripe  scholar 
and  accomplished  gentleman,  that  some  of  our  modern  pedagogues  had 
discovered  Mr.  Shandy's  "Northwest  passage  to  the  Int-^Hectual 
World" — that  they  had  found  out  that  "Shorter  way  of  going  to  work, 
by  which  the  soul  furnishes  itself  with  knowledge  and  instruction" — 
in  a  word,  that  they  had  pursued  his  favourite  system  of  education  by  j. 
the  "right  use  and  application  of  the  auxiliar}  verbs,"  and  that  in  this 
way  the  fabrick  of  an  education  is  built  up  like  Alladin's  palace  in  a 
single  night.  The  truth  is,  that  ordinarily,  in  our  country,  too  little 
time  is  devoted  to  Education — hence  the  reproach  to  American  Scho- 
larship, not  altogether  undeserved.  Hence  the  few  distinguished  scho- 
lars, compared  with  the  number  of  the  nominally  educated.  A  complete 
or  thorough  education  is  the  result  and  the  reward  only  of  long 
and  patient  study,  and  of  careful  and  judicious  instruction.  The  devo- 
tee of  Science  must  drink  daily  at  the  springs  of  k  lowledge — he  can- 
not imbibe  inspiration  at  a  single  draught — the  flame  will  not  kindle 
at  the  fountain  of  Dodona,  by  merely  touching  the  waters.  It  will  be 
perceived  that  my  estimate  of  a  thorough  education  comprehends  a 
high  degree  of  moral  as  well  as  intellectual  cultivation.  In  this  view 
of  the  subject,  I  shall  be  led  to  notice  some  things  in  our  systems  of 
school  discipline  which  appear  to  me  to  require  correction.  Permit  me 
to  say  that  these  observations,  the  result  neithei  of  long  experience  norv 
of  much  reflection,  challenge  little  deference.  They  are  intended  mere- 
ly as  suggestions,  which  offered  with  diffidence,  should  be  received 
with  caution.  An  important  defect,  in  most  of  our  systems  of  school 
discipline  and  instruction  is,  that  they  are  with  difficulty  adjusted  to 
individual  peculiarities  of  mind  or  character.  The  pupil  is  not  unfre-  ■., 
quently  sacrificed  to  the  dogma  of  his  preceptor,  who,  adhering  rigid- 
ly to  some  favourite  scheme  of  education,  refuses  the  sljg  litest  relaxa- 
tion of  his  rule  of  discipline,  or  the  least  departure  from  his  plan  of 
instruction.  The  doctrine  of  Helvetius,  that  all  are  born  with  the  same 
and  equal  capacities,  tempers,  and  dispositions,  would  seem  to  be  a  fa- 
vourite one  with  our  modern  teachers;  for  upon  this  metaphysical 
absurdity,  are  most  of  our  systems  of  education  founded.  The  same 
course  of  study  is  prescribed  to  each,  the  same  rules  of  discipline  en- 
forced upon  all,  the  same  seed  is  sown,  and  the  same  tillage  pursued  * 
upon  every  variety  of  soil.  Boys  of  unequal  capacities,  and  of  minds 
in  different  degrees  matured,  are  put  together  in  a  class.  The  slow  is 
mat  e  to  keep  pace  with  the  swifl,  not  indeed  in  ihe  arquisition  of  know- 
ledge, for  though  they  together  describe  the  same  circle  and  arrive  at 


the  goal  at  the  same  instant  of  time,  yet  the  one  "in  running  has  de- 
voured the  way"  the  other  has  been  urged,  blindfold,  round  ihe  cou  se. 
It  is  the  object  of  an  education^vvhich  is  to  qualify  thp  pupil  for  future 
usefuhiess,  to  make  the  preparatory  course  of  discipline  and  instruc- 
tion available  to  the  end  proposed.  The  teacher  consulting  the  pu-- 
pil's  capacity  and  disposition,  should  adapt  the  plan  of  instruction  to 
the  intellectual  and  moral  dimensions  of  the  learne?.  The  boy  would 
then  be  daily  rehearsing  to  his  teacher,  the  part  he  is  destined  to  play 
upon  the  great  stage  of  life.  It  is  not  intended  that  regard  should  be 
had  to  the  boy's  wishes,  or  the  estimate  he  may  have  made  of  his  own 
abilities:  that  indeed  would  be  to  take  counsel  of  caprice  and  vanity.  It 
would  never  do  to  address  to  the  schoolboy  the  advice  of  Tranio  to  his 

master: 

The  Vlathetnaticks  and  the  Metaphysicks, 

Fall  to  them,  as  you  find  your  stomach  serves, 

No  profit  grows  where  is  no  pleasure  ta'en. 

In  brief,  Sir,  study  what  you  most  aflfect. 
Youth  is  just  that  period  when  we  are  least  capable  of  estima- 
ting the  value  of  an  education,  and  most  impatient  of  the  restraints 
of  discipline.  A  disinclination  of  the  taste,  or  an  inaptitude  of  the 
genius,  would  be  the  frequent  excuse  for  idleness,  and  the  ready 
apology  for  the  total  neglect  of  some  useful  branch  of  educa- 
tion. A  knowledge  of  all  the  subjects,  usually  taught  in  our 
schools,  is  deemed  essential  to  a  complete  education — it  is  not  pro- 
posed that  any  should  be  omitted  or  neglected.  All  that  is  intend- 
ed to  be  urged,  is  that  regard  should  be  had  to  the  admonitions  of  na- 
ture— to  the  indications  of  the  mind.  When  Cicero  inquired  of  the 
oracle  what  course  of  study  he  should  pursue,  the  answer  was,  follow 
nature?  When  the  inclination  of  the  mind,  and  the  tendency  of  the  ge- 
nius are  clearly  discovered,  they  should  be  followed  as  a  rich  vein  of 
intellectual  ore.  When  any  particular  talent  is  boldly  developed,  it 
ought  to  be  carefully  cherished  and  sedulously  cultivated.  The  teacher, 
following  the  lead  of  nature,  should  be  careful  to  incline  the  mind  of 
the  pupil  to  those  studies,  to  encourage  in  him  those  habits  of  thought, 
and  to  pursue  towards  him  that  species  of  discipline  and  instruction 
which  will  be  the  best  preparation  for  success  in  that  department  of 
human  knowledge,  in  which  his  future  labours  promise  the  largest  and 
most  useful  results.  It  is  not,  however,  so  much  to  the  course  of  stu- 
dy, as  to  the  government  and  discipline  adopted  in  our  scliools,  that 
your  attention  is  solicited.  It  is  respectfully  suggested,'  whether  in 
most  of  our  primary  schools,  there  be  not  a  too  frequefit  appeal  to 
means,  of  a  character  too  stimulating.  Boys  like  men.lt'fs  true,  are  , 
acted  on  most  readily  through  their  passions — they  are  most  easily  ve- 


L. 


strained  by  fear,  and  incited  by  ambition;  but  tlie  most  obvious  are  "ot 
always  the  best  :>r  safest  means.     Indeed,  the  great    anger  of  th'   im- 
prudent use  of  these  means,  ari-^es  from  the  fact  that  they  are  those 
which  are  nearest  at  hand,  and  first  present  themselves.    In  all  strong 
governments,  resort  is  top  re.ulily  had  to  strong  measures.     He  wlo 
can  safely   threaten,   will  seldom   give  himself  the  trouble  to  reason 
with  a  delinquent,  and  he  who  has  the  power  to  punish  will  rarely 
condescend  to  persuade.     The  pedagogue,   within  the  narrow  bounds 
of  his  little  d -minion,  is' as  absolute  as  the  most  potent  monarch  up  in 
earth.     Hence  the  strong  affinity    which  exists  between  the  ferule, 
and  the  right  hand  of  the  pedagogue,  and  hence  the  practice  of  that 
species  of  palmistry  so  much  in  vogue  in  our  schools.     It  may,  with 
y  humility,  be  doubted  whether  the  rod  be  that  certain  source  of  inspira- 
tion which  seems  to  be  supposed  unrivaled  in  the  art  of  leaching  the 
interjections.  Oh!  Heu!  and  Proh!     It  may  be  questioned  whether  it 
can  boast  equal  efficacy,  in  imparting  a  knowledge  of  the  other  parts 
of  speech.     Like  the  witch  hazel,    it  does  indeed   indicate  the  hidden 
formation,  and  like  the  rod  of  the  prophet,  the  waters  are  sure  to  fol- 
low when  its  blows  descend;    but  the  true  spring  of  inspiration,  the 
Helicon  of  the   mind,  is  beyond  its  divination.     Let  the  pedagogue 
quiet  his  alarm,  and  forbear  his  indignation,  if  he  can.  I  shall  inculcate 
no  treason  against  his  authority;  I  am  no  foe  to  his  "awful  rule  and 
right  supremacy."  I  would  not,  if  I  could,  wrench  his  birchen  sceptre 
from  his  gripe.     Admonished   by  my  own   sad  experience,   I  would 
merely  intercede  in  behalf  of  my  young  friends,  for  its  less  frequent 
and  more  discreet  use.     It  may  be,   however,    that  my  judgment  is 
blinded,  in  this  matter,  by  my  feelings.     I  admit  a  sort  of  conscious- 
ness of  certain  early  prejudices.     This  place  has  its  associations,  and 
has  not  failed  to  revive  certain  reminiscences,  not  of  the  most  agreea- 
ble description.     The  very  subject  unavoidably  renews  the  sad  re- 
membrance of  those  griefs, 

"Cluaique  ipse  miserriina  vidi,  et  quorum  pars  magna  fui." 

I  would  appeal  too  to  the  self-love  of  the  instructer;  I  would  admo- 
a)ish  him  that  by  a  too  prodigal  display  of  his  power,  he  is  creating 
around  him,  a  host  of  little  enemies,  who  are  not  without  the  means  of 
mischief  and  annoyance.  Ii  is  the  glory  of  Socrates,  that  when  con- 
demned to  die,  his  disciples  crowded  around  him,  eager  to  testify 
their  affection,  prompt  to  deplore  his  misfortune  and  to  soothe  his 
grief.  It  may  be  questioned,  whether,  should  one  of  our  modern 
teachers  be  condemned  to  drink  the  hemlock,  his  disciples  would  make 
as  forward  a  display  of  their  sympathies;  the  revengeful  urchins  would 


I  doubt,  be  apt  to  applaud  the  justice  of  his  sentence,  and  consider  the 
infusion  of  hemlock,  a  fair  return  for  the  unmerciful  doses  of  birch 
or  chinquepin,  administered  to  tliemselves.  One  of  the  worst  effects 
of  corporal  punishments  is,  that  it  has  a  tendency  to  estrange  the  pu- 
pil from  his  master.  Too  much  severity  chills  afiection  and  repels 
confidence:  The  boy  soon  learns  to  hate,  what  he  has  been  taught  to 
fearj  the  dread  ofpunishment  prompts  him  to  seek  impunity,  in  the 
concealment  of  his  delinquencies;  he  gradually  loses  the  amiable  in- 
genuousness proper  to  his  years.  His  frank  spirit  catches  the  taint 
of  hypocrisy,  and  his  open  brow  is  covered  with  a  frightful  mask  of 
falsehood  and  deceit.  He  who  has  early  learned  to  practice  the  arts  of 
deception,  and  to  draw  a  veil  over  his  motives  and  his  conduct,  can 
scarcely  be  expected,  in  after  life,  to  illustrate  the  virtues  of  truth  and 
canf'our.  Whether  the  character  may  not  be  permanently  debased, 
by  accustoming  the  mind  to  the  influence  of  so  base  a  motive  as  fear, 
and  whether  it  be  prudent  to  familiarize  it  with  a  mode  of  punish- 
ment, which,  in  all  well  regulated  communities,  is  appropriated  to 
the  most  odious  offences,  and  the  infliction  of  which  is  followed  by  so- 
cial degradation,  are  questions  which  invite  the  earnest  enquiry  and 
ougbi  to  engage  the  anxious  reflection,  of  all  those  to  whose  care  is 
committed  the  education  of  youth.  If  corporal  punishment  must  be 
retained  as  a  part  of  school  discipline,  it  should  at  least  be  regarded  as 
a  dangerous  remedy,  to  which  resort  should  be  had,  only  in  extreme 
cases;  it  should  be  reserved  as  th^  penalty  for  moral  delinquencies,  as  ' 
the  correction  for  vices,  of  a  character  incorrigible  by  other  means. 

It  is  further  suggested,  whether  some  motive  to  exertion  might  not 
be  substituted,  of  a  character  less  equivocal,  and  of  a  tendency  less 
dangerous,  than  the  spirit  of  emulation,  or  rather,  whether  appeals  to 
this  spirit  are  not  made  loo  frequently,  and  with  too  little  caution.— 
The  teacher  who  seeks  to  awaken  this  spirit  in  his  pupil,  runs  the  risk 
of  rousing  passions,  in  close  alliance  with  it,  and  of  the  very  worst 
character — such  as  envy,  hatred,  and  the  spirit  of  detraction.  A  spi- 
rit of  rivalry,  in  a  long  course  of  competition,  is  apt  to  be  aggravated 
into  a  feeling  of  hostility,  and  the  opponent  comes,  at  length,  to  be 
regarded  as  aa  enemy.  He,  whose  example  we  are  bid  to  emulate, 
who  is  often  exhibited  in  injurious  contrast  to  ourselves,  whose  merit 
is  made  the  reproach  of  our  unworthiness,  whose  success  frustrates  our 
hopes,  and  disappoints  our  ambition — he,  in  a  word,  who  impresses 
us  with  the  painful  sense  of  inferiority,  will,  unless  we  are  watchful 
of  our  motives,  and  keep  a  guard  upon  our  passions,  become  an  object 
of  envy,  and  a  subject  of  detraction.  Hurt  vanity,  and  raorMfied  self- 
love,  will  prompt  the  disingenuous  wish  to  lessen  the  merit  we  have 


s 

in  vain  essayed  to  equal.  These  effects  of  a  vicious  system  of  educa- 
tion, frequentlv  betray  themselves  even  in  youth,  the  period  of  can- 
did sentiment  and  generous  feeling;  and  the  young  bosom  which  should 
be  taught  to  throb  only  with  virtuous  emotion,  becomes  the  theatre 
of  contending  passions.  In  after-life,  when  as  the  objects  of  competi- 
tion are  of  greater  value,  the  eagerness  of  desire  is  increased,  and  the 
pang  of  disappointment  more  keenly  felt,  they  assume  an  aspect  of 
darker  malignity,  and  a  form  more  disgustingly  hateful.  They  some- 
times mingle  in  the  strife  for  noble  objects,  and  characters  of  other- 
wise exalted  worth,  are  degraded  by  the  littleness  of  envy  and  the 
meanness  of  jealousy. 

There  is  another  error,  which,  though  not  so  general  as  to  be  fairly 
considered  inherent  in  our  systems  of  school  discipline,  is  yet  suffi- 
ciently common  to  deserve  notice  and  reprehension.  It  consists  in  a 
misrepresentation  of  the  objects  and  purposes  of  education,  and  may 
be  defined  to  be  the  suggestion  to  the  learner  of  a  false  motive  to  ex- 
ertion. The  eminences  of  fame,  the  heights  of  power,  the  applause 
of  contemporaries,  and  the  plaudits  of  posterity,  whatever  can  flatter 
vanity  or  awaken  ambition,  is  presented  to  the  notice  of  the  pupil,  and 
proposed  to  him  as  the  certain  reward  of  industry  and  assiduity. — 
There  cannot  be  a  more  pernicious  error.  Its  effects  upon  the  cha- 
racter of  the  individual  and  upon  society,  are  indeed,  deplorable. 
The  youth,  so  soon  as  he  becomes  capable  of  observation  and  reflec- 
tion, detects  the  fallacy  of  the  hopes  with  which  his  mind  has  been  fill- 
ed; he  discovers  that  the  rewards  which  have  been  proposed  as  cer- 
tain, are  impossible;  that  the  objects  at  which  he  has  been  taught  to 
aim,  must  remain  forever  beyond  his  reach,  Hope  dies  within  him, 
and  his  exertions  relax.  Upon  the  failure  of  one  motive,  a  more  cor- 
rect but  less  stimulating  one  may  fail  to  reanimate  his  courage.  If  the 
delusion  be  sustained  until  he  has  completed  his  collegiate  course,  so 
soon  as  he  enters  upon  the  great  stage  of  life,  it  is  sure  to  be  dispelled. 
He  then  discovers  that  fame  must,  from  the  nature  of  things,  be  the  lot 
of  a  very  few,  and  that  his  must  be  the  fate  of  the  predecessors  of  Aga- 
memnon— 

Vixere  fortes  ante  Agamemnona, 
Multi;  sed  omnes  illacrymabiles 
Urgentur  ignotique  Icnga 
Nocte." 

He  yields  to  the  feeling  of  despondency,  which  succeeds  the  excitation 
of  hope,  and  refusing  to  attempt  even  that  which  he  has  the  ability  to 
accomplish,  finds  in  retirement  obscurity  indeed,  but  ni>t  contentment: 
0«-,  worse  still,  losing  the  motive  of  a  lofty  ambition,  abandoning  the 


^ 


9 

pursuit  of  those  hifrlier  objects  whirl)  arc  seldom  sougjit,  becaube  they 
Gail  never  he  won  but  bv  ho;iouraI)le  inea'-s,  and  icn  loiiii;  accustomed 
to  ihe  hiirh  excitement  of  stimulating  motives,  to  iicknf)vvlcdge  the  in- 
fluence of  more  moderate  hopes,  tie  becomes  an  unprincipled  dema- 
^o^ue;  a  restless  intriguer  for  petty  power  and  ephemeral  distinction; 
the  parasite  of  power,  the  flatterer  of  the  people,  the  pander  to  preju- 
dice, the  advocate  of  error,  acknowledi^ing  no  princi|)le  but  expedicsn- 
cy,  no  feeling  but  selfishnesss  !  A  political  cameleon,  changing  his 
complexion  with  the  clianging  hue  of  the  linit-s.  Behold  him  a  Law- 
giver, illustrating  by  the  vacillations  of  his  unpiincipied  policy,  the 
description  which  the  poet  gives  us  of  one  of  the  worst  characters  of 
antiquity, 

Vendidit  hie  auro,  patriam,  dominum  quo 

Imposuit,  fixit  leges  pretio,  atque  refixit. —  Virg.  B.  6.  621. 

serving  no  other  purpose  than  to  indicate  the  caprices  of  power  or 
the  eccentricities  of  popular  whim.  If  you  would  not,  that  these  sad 
effects  disclose  themselves  in  the  man,  deal  fairly  by  the  boy.  Sug- 
gest to  hitn  no  false  motive,  let  there  be  no  misrepresentation  of  the 
purposes,  no  exaggeration  of  the  advantages  of  education,  let  him  be 
told  all  the  good  that  knowledge  rightly  used  will  accomplish  for  him; 
that  by  enlarging  his  mind  and  extending  his  views,  it  will  increase  his 
capacities  for  happiness,  and  multiply  to  him  the  sources  of  innocent 
enjoyment,  that  education,  though  it  be  auxiliary  to  the  acquisition  of 
power  and  fame,  is  not  proposed  as  a  certain  means  of  becoming  pow- 
erful and  distinguished,  but  that  habits  of  industry,  correct  principles, 
and  upright  conduct,  will  certainly  be  rewarded  in  after  life,  by  use- 
fulness, respectability,  and  happiness.  If,  indeed,  the  preceptor  dis- 
covers in  t.ie  mind  of  his  pupil  those  rare  qualities  which  afford  a  fair 
promise  of  future  eminence,  and  if  the  youth  feel  within  himself,  the 
stirring  of  that  divine  'afflatus,'  without  which,  Cicero  tells  us,  no 
man  can  be  great,  let  him 

"Take  the  instant  way 

For  Honour  travels  in  a  strait  so  narrow 

Where  one  but  goes  abreasi;  keep  then  the  path; 
•  For  Emulation  hath  a  thousand  sons, 

That  one  by  one  pursue:  If  he  give  way, 

Or  hedge  aside  from  the  direct  forth  right, 

Like  to  an  entered  tide,  they  all  rush  by, 

And  leave  him  hindmost."  Troi  <J«  Cressidc. 

To  discipline  the  mind,  and  f<rm  the  character  of  such  a  youth,  is  at 
once  a  most  interesting  and  responsible  duty.  The  preceptor  should 
be  careful  to  incline  his  heart  to  virtue,  and  to  direct  his  ambition  to 

2 


lO 

proper  objects;  to  lay  the  foundation  of  the  future  greatness  of  Iiis 
pupil  in  generous  sentiments  and  sound  principles;  the  young  aspirant 
shf'ukl  be  persuaded,  that  if  he  would  be  remembered,  after  the  laurel 
has  faded  from  his  brow,  and  the  brow  itself  become  cold;  if  he  would 
have  the  sound  of  his  fame  heard  by  future  ages  and  the  plaudits  of 
his  cotemporaries  caught  and  repeated  by  succeeding  generations,  he 
must  consent  to  forego  the  indulgence  of  passion,  and  learn  to  resist 
the  seductions  of  vice  and  the  allurements  of  pleasure.  He  must  be 
taught  to  distinguish  between  notoriety  and  fame,  and  be  constantly 
reminded  that  the  only  access  to  the  temple  of  Fame  is  through  that 
of  Honour.  Men  are  forgotten,  not  because  the  inscription  is  erased 
from  the  monument — but  because  they  have  not  deserved  to  be  re- 
membered,— because  they  have  formed  a  false  estimate  of  the  quali- 
ties ol  true  greatness.  They  listen  to  flattery,  and  call  it  praise; 
they  sacrifice  to  vanity  and  think  they  worship  fame;  they  think  ra- 
ther of  what  will  procure  applause,  than  of  what  will  deserve  it. — 
They  regulate  their  conduct  by  their  immediate  interests,  or  by  the 
wishes,  the  passions  or  the  prejudices  of  their  cotemporaries,  and 
without  reference  to  the  standard,  by  which  posterity  will  judge  it. 
He,  who  would  weave  around  his  brow  an  unfading  chaplet,  who 
would  surround  his  name  with  the  halo  of  true  glory,  must  be  taught 
rnodcration,  self-command,  reverence  nf  God,  love  of  his  fellow-men. 
He  must  learn  to  distinguish  between  that  which  is  just,  and  that  which 
is  merely  expedient, — he  must  be  accustomed  to  scrutinize  his  mo- 
tives and  his  actions,  and  to  judge  them  by  the  invariable  standard  of 
right.  If  he  be  taught  this  in  youth,  in  alter  life,  he  will  rare- 
ly be  betrayed  by  false  motives,  into  wrong  actions;  he  will  sel- 
dom do  wrong,  from  a  wish  always  to  do  right, — he  wall  avail  him- 
self of  every  opportunity  to  do  good,  and  avoid  every  temptation  to 
do  evil, — he  will  have  courage  to  act,  where  action  will  be  useful  and 
prudence  to  forbear,  when  action  would  be  mischievous, — and  thus, 
he  will  deserve  praise  not  only  for  what  he  does,  but  for  what  he  for- 
bears to  do.  He  need  not  trust  to  win  an  epitaph — his  actions  will 
be  his  records;  each  b  nefit  he  confers  upon  his  kind,  will  be  a  monu- 
ment to  his  glory.  Posterity  will  cherish  his  fame,  because  he  is  a 
benefactor  to  posterity;  it  will  recount  his  story,  because  it  teaches 
golden  lessons  of  wisdom,  and  affords  a  glorious  example,  to  imitate, 
and  a  safe  light  to  follow. 

Ill  what  way,  it  may  be  asked,  is  the  instructor  to  counteract  the  se-* 
ductions  of  pleasure,  or  to  overcome  the  love  of  ease,  and  the  vis  in- 
ertia (if  indolence,  if  he  can  neither  compel  the  fears,  nor  incite  the 
ambition  of  his  pupil?     It  is  certainly  much  easier  to  detect  defects. 


^ 


11 

ihan  to  provide  their  remedies,  to  repudiate  a  system  than  to  originate 
a  plan. 

It  might  be  sufficient  to  remark,  that  the  extinction  of  the  passions, 
against  the  encouragement  of  whicii  I  have  ventured  (o  protest,  ueed 
not  be  apprehended.  Their  aid  will  not  be  vvithheld  from  the  instruc- 
tor: Boys  will  continue  to  be  influenced  bv  the  fear  of  shaT»e,  and  to 
be  incited  by  the  spirit  of  rivalry,  though  direct  appeals  to  these  passions 
be  forborne.  Without  intending  to  propose  a  plan  of  discipline,  I  may 
venture  to  remark,  that  if  the  teacher  would  be  more  of  the  assistant 
and  less  of  the  taskmaster,  more  ready  to  advise  and  less  prompt  to 
punish,  his  labours  would  in  the  end,  be  more  profitable  to  the  pupil 
and  less  irksome  to  himself.  If  he  would  be  more  with  the  student, 
while  engaged  in  preparing  his  lesson,  the  recitation  would  be  less  fre- 
quently an  exhibition  of  ignorance  on  the  one  part  and  a  trial  t)f  tem- 
per on  the  otiier.  A  boy  of  generous  mind  enters  upon  the  pursuit 
of  knowledge,  with  an  eagerness  of  hope,  and  an  avidity  of  desire, 
which,  if  carefully  cherished,  will  constitute  a  sufficient  motive  to  ex- 
ertion. But  this  "vivida  vis  animi"  is  frequently  palsied  in  the  very 
outset.  Difficulties,  the  nature  of  \^hich  the  boy  cannot  comprehend, 
and  the  means  oC  surmounting  which,  he  does  not  perceive,  present 
themselves  at  every  step  of  his  career.  To  his  affrighted  fancy,  'Hills 
peep  o'er  Hills,  and  Alps  on  Alps  arise:'  His  courage  fails  and  hope 
dies  within  him.  How  different  would  be  the  result,  if  the  teacher 
would  place  liimself  at  the  side  of  the  pupil,  and  become  his  guide  and 
companion,  pointing  him  the  way,  aiding  him  in  his  difficulties,  ani- 
mating his  hopes  and  reviving  his  courage.  "Whatever,"  says  John- 
son, "enlarges  hope  exalts  courage,"  let  the  teacher  then  cherish  in 
his  pupil  the  hope  of  success;  let  him  be  careful  to  inspire  him  with 
the  sentiment  of  the  competitors  i;i  the  Trjan  games. 
"Possunt,  quia,  posse,  vidciitur." 
Let  him  be  reminded,  that  if  the  toil  be  great,  the  reward  is  sure; 
that  though  the  Hill  of  science,  like  the  mountain  of  Black-stones  in 
the  Arabian  Tales,  presents  a  rugged  aspect  and  is  ascended  by  an  ob- 
scure path,  yet  upon  its  summit,  are  the  fruit  tree  and  the  fountain  and 
beyond,  a  scene  of  fairy  enchantment  opens  upon  the  charmed  and 
delighted  eye.  The  rewards  of  assiduity,  it  is  true,  are  too  distant,  to 
exert  a  very  p  werful  influence  upon  the  conduct  of  a  youth  of  ea- 
ger hopes  and  impatient  desires,  who  demands  immediate  results  and 
longs  to  taste  the  fruit  of  the  tree  of  knowledge.  The  faculties  must 
be  subjected  to  those  severe  exercises,  which  can  alone  give  them 
strength  and  har  iihood.  But  this  preparatory  course  of  mental  dis- 
cipline, though  necessarily  irksome,  may  yet  be  relieved  of  much  of 


It 

its  dryness.     A  teacher  of  well-iiiformefl  miirl,  of  cultivated  tas'e  and 
Jively  ffenius,   tiiay  impart  a  degr  e  of    aniinaiion    and  interest,  to  the 
dullest  school  exercise.     Let  the  day's  lesson  be  made  the    subject    of 
an  oral  lecture, —  Let  the  teacher  illustrate   the  author's  idea,  point  out 
to  the  pupil  the  justness  of  the  thought,  the  beauty    of  the  style,    the 
aptitude  of  the  simile,    explain    the  ;illn->i(m;  comment  on  the    senti- 
ment, enforce  the  moral;  and  the  youth,  who    has   toiled    to  asccitain 
the  iDeaninjr  of  words,  dud  to  discover  their  g  vcrnment    and  relation 
to  each  other,   will  acknowledge,    that  his  day's    labour  has   been     a- 
bundantly  rewarded.      He  will  be  sensible,  that  he  has  made  an  acq  d- 
silion  to  his  little  stock  of  knowledge.      His    mind    will  exult  in    the 
new  light,   which  has  been  shed  upon  it.     His  exertions  will   no    lon- 
ger be  the  reluctant,  because  unrevvar<led  labour  of  the  slave,  but    re- 
semble rather  the  eager  and  animated  industry  of  him,    who    discovers 
amid  the  barren  earth,  which  his  spade  turn«;  up,  the  sinning    particles 
of  a  precious  ore.     The  whole    difference   consists  in  teaching  words, 
"ivith  or   without  reference     to  the   thoughts  they  eiibody.      Let    the 
course  of  instruction  be  altered — let  it  not  be  forgotten  that    the  pupil 
is  a  being  of  fancy  and  feeling,  and  let  it  be  the  care  of  the  teacher  to 
inflame  the  one  and  interest  the  other.     If  the  day's    lesson  aflords   a 
striking  image,  a  sound    moral,   or  a    noble    sentiment,  le,  him    be    re- 
quired to  give  to  the  passage,   a    written   translation,  or  it  may  be    to 
turn  it  into  English  verse,  to  rcake  it    the  therne  if  a  conq  osition  or 
the  subject  of    a  paraplirase.      He  will  tiius  have   obtained    a  right  of 
property  in  the  thought,  and  to  the  notion  of  propc-rty,    the   desire    of 
acquisition  will  succeed.      His  studies  will  no     longer   be    regardtd  as 
a  forced  exercise,  but  as  a  pursuit  of  pleasure,  an  i  he  who  has    turned 
with  disgust  from  the  pages  of  the  ancient  poets  and  orators,  as     the 
prescribed  subjects  of  odious  task,    will  consult  them   with  eagcrHess, 
as  a  means  of  instruction  and    a  source  of  gratification.      Our  school 
reading  of  the  classics  is  too  limited,  and  the  knowledge  we  acquire  of 
them  too  imperfect  to  Inspire  us  with  a  love  of,  or  a  taste  fo?  classical 
literature.     Who  of  us  is  not  ready  to  confess  that  he  is  indebted    to 
Dryden  and  Pope  for  his  earliest  relish  for  Virgil  and  Homer,  and  for 
his  first  perception  of  the  beauties  of  those  authors.      By  the  present 
mode  of  instruction  in  the  classicks,  the  pupil  is   deprived    of  one    of 
the  great  benefits    of  education, —  the  inn(jcent  pleasiire  to  be  derived 
froin  the  cultivation  of  the  taste,  and  a  perusal  of  the  best    authors  of 
antiquity.     It  is  true  he  has  access  to  the  treasures  of  English    litera- 
ture, but  an  acquaintance  with  the  ancient    is  essential   to  a  thorough 
knowledge  and  a  perfect  relish  for  the  beauties  of  the  modern  classicks. 
This  knowledge  and  this  taste  are  means    of  gratification  which  we 


13 


iiiay  be  said  to  hold  indppend<nily  of  the  vicissitudes  of  fortune. 
Tiiey  oi)Pn  to  us  a  source  of  iunoreit  pirasure,  tn  which  we  have  ac- 
cess at  all  times  and  unde>-  all  cir;Mimstances. 

"Hffc  studia  adolescentiam  alimt,  serectutcni  oblectant,  secundas  res 
ornaiu,  adversis  solatium  el  nprAi^ium  praebfnt;  deleci^iit  domi;  non 
impediunt  foris,    pernoctaiit  nobiscum,    peregiinantur,    rusticantur." 

Cicero.        ' 
What  we  now  make  the  eleprmt  amusement  or  the  instructive  exer- 
cise of  our  vacant  hours,  nay  hereafter  constitute  a  solace  for  our  age 
and  a  refuge  of  our    "isfortunes;   when  all  other  sources  of  enjoyment 
fail  us,  wlien  the  mind  instructed  hy  disappointment  detects  the  soph-, 
istry  of  hope,  and  the  heart  wounded  in  its  affection?  refuses  to  yield  to 
the  solicitations  of  friendship,  or  the  blandishments  of  love;  the  devo- 
tion to  letters  will    emain;  and  in  the  indulgence  of  this  passion  of  the 
mind  in  the  cultivation  of  the  taste,  and  in  the    pursuit  of  knowledge, 
in  the  fictions  of  poetry  and  the  truths  of    pinlosophy,  we    may    find 
that  pleasure  and  consolation,  elsewhere  sought  in  vain.     Nor  should 
we  be   unmindful  that  there  is  an  old  age  of  the  mind  as  of  the  body, 
against  which  it  is  the  part  of  prudence  to  provide,    that  there  is  a  pe- 
riod of  mental  imbecilii)'  as  of  C(jrporeal  decay,  when    the  wavering- 
attention  and  the  trembling  hand  alike  refuse  their  ministry, — when  the 
darkened  eye  gathers  no  light  lo  guide  or  illumine,  and    the  deafened 
ear  conveys  no  sound     to    admonish    or    instruct.     In     a  word,  that 
there  is  a  i)eriod,  when  th    mind  deserted  by    its    corporeal  allies  the 
senses,  is  cast  upcnitsown  resources,  and  without  the   power   of  fur- 
ther acquisition  must  feed  upun  its  collected  stores  or  perish.     In  this 
season  of  intellectual  night,    when  no  light  is  let    in  upon    the     mind 
from  without,  the  trcasm-ed  thought,  the  recollected  fact,     the  golden 
lesson  of  vxisdom   early  learned    and    carefully    treasured,  like  those 
gems  whic'i  disclose  their  lustre  in  the    dark,    will  difl\ise  a    cheerful 
light  through  the   mind,  and  dispel  its  gloom.      These,  it    is   true,    are 
considerations  n^t  likely  to  have  muc.'i  influence  upon  the  young;    we 
can  scarcely  persuade  ourselves  to  think  of  the  future,  with  any  provi- 
dent foresight  to  its  wants.     While  we  are  conscious  of   unimpaired 
faculties,  of  undiminished  capacities  for  pleasure,  we  can  with  difficul- 
ty realise  that  the  period   approaches   when  we     must     cease    to    be 
young.     We  look  forwaid  to  old  age  as  to  a  cold  and    inevitable,   but 
as  we  flatter  ourselves,  a  distant  season,  which  is  to  come  upon  us  in- 
deed, but  not  until    we    have  passed  a  spring  of  exulting   hope    and 
exhausted  the  rich  fruits  of  a  glorious  summer  and  a   mellow  autumn. 
But  this  dark  period,  which  is  seen  by  us    as  afar  off",  is  even    now  a't 
hand. 


14 

Lo!  whilo  we  give  the  unregarJed  hour, 

To  wine  ;ui(j  revelry,  in  pleasures'  bovver; 

The  noiseless  foot  of  time  steals  swiftly  by 

And  e're  we  dream  of  manhood,  age  is  nigh. 
Gifford  Fam.  Serv. 
I  willingly  quit  a  subject,  with  regard  to  which  1  am  every  momeut 
liable  to  be  betrayed  by  ignorance  into  error,  and  in  discupsing  which 
before  such  an  audience,  I  commit  the  fully  of  him,  who  ventured  to 
discourse  of  ar,  in  the  presence  of  Hannibal.  I  am  aware  of  having 
trespassed  already  loo  far  upo..  your  patience,  but  as  I  may  be  expect- 
ed to  say  something  on  the  subject  of  general  education,  and  as  I  would 
not  willingly  by  silence,  on  an  occasion  like  this,  expose  myself  lo 
the  suspicion  of  bei  g  averse  to  the  eflorts  which  are  making  to  pro- 
mote a  universal  diffusion  of  the  benefits  of  education,  1  must  ask  your 
indulgence  a  few  moiiients  longer  He  indeed,  who  docs  not  partici- 
pate in  the  hopes  excited  by  the  ardent  zeal  every  where  manifested 
by  the  enlightened  lovers  of  mankind,  to  meliorate  the  condition  and 
to  elevate  the  character  of  man,  and  who  feels  no  wish  to  aid  in  so  glo- 
rious an  enterprise,  is  far  behind  the  spirit  of  the  age  and  there  is  indeed 
much  to  encourage  our  hopes  and  animate  our  exertions, — whetlier  we 
consider  the  chances  of  success,  or  the  results,  which  are  to  reward  il. 
The  atte  tion  of  the  wise  and  good  is  every-where  directed,  with  un- 
ceasing interest  to  this  great  object.  These  unremitting  exertions  are 
rapidly  conci  iating  the  fiivour  and  quickening  the  zeal  of  Ihe  public  in 
its  behalf,  —  while  the  political  changes,  which  have  occurrrd  or  are 
in  progress,  in  many  parts  of  the  world,  afford  to  the  philanthiopist, 
the  assured  and  pleasing  hope  of  its  ultimate  accomplishment.  Our 
own  country  presents  the  fairest  field  for  tho  successful  trial  of  this 
great  experiment.  The  political  institutions  of  most  other  countries 
oppose  an  obstacle  lo  its  success,  which  is  not  encountered  here.  Un- 
der most  of  the  political  systems  of  ancient  institution,  there  is  sup- 
posed to  exist  an  adversary  interest,  between  the  few,  who  exercise 
power  and  the  many  who  are  its  subjects.  Knowledge  is  power  and 
the  timidity  or  jealousy  of  ihe  ruler,  has  suggested  the  selfish  policy 
of  keeping  the  subject  in  ignorance;  every  avenue  lo  kncnviedge  is 
carefully  closed  against  him,  and  science  can  dart  into  his  uiind  only 
an  occasional  and  broken  beam,  through  some  forgotten  or  unguarded 
aperture.  Under  such  governments,  the  maxim  is,  that  knowledge  is 
not  for  the  poor.  Here,  to  deny  to  the  citizen  the  right  to  be  in  triict- 
ed,  to  refuse  to  him  the  light  of  knowledge,  would  be  deemed  an  act  of 
scarce  less  wickedness  and  follj'  than  loshut  him  out  from  the  glorious 
light  of  Heaven.  Here,  no  stale  policy,  no  supposed  goverm.f  nlal  ne- 
cessity oppose  themselves  lo  the  education  of  the  people.     On  the 


15 

cpnhary,  under  a  government  of  popular  institution,  of  which  the  peo- 
ple are  not  onlv  the  authors,  but  as  to  uniny  imimrtanl  functions,  the 
agents,  "it  is  essential  that  public  opinion  shoukl  be  enlightened." — 
Accordingly  we  find  the  views  of  the  statesman,  in  accordance  with 
the  wishes  of  the  Philanthropist.  The  policy  <'f  the  one  recommonds 
what  the  benevolence  of  the  other  has  suggested.  The  one  |)erceives, 
in  the  geneial  dili'usion  of  the  blessings  of  educaiion,  the  best  security 
for  the  happiness  of  the  citizen,  the  other,  the  surest  guarantee  for  the 
stability  of  the  govern. nent. 

This  subject  is  also  full  of  interest  to  the  lover  of  science:  It  fills  his 
mind  with  the  most  shining  hopes;  he  beholds,  in  the  promised  deve- 
lopement  and  the  consequent  con'*entration  of  the  intellectual  power 
of  mankind,  the  mighty  instrument,  by  which  Philosophy  is  to  achieve 
new  wonders.     When  we  reflect  on  all  that   mind  has  accomplished, 
on  the  secrets  it  has  revealed,    on  the  truths  it  has  discovered;  when 
we  think  of  all  it  has  achieved  in  science,  in  philosophy,  in  ihe  arts,  in 
every  department  of  human  knowledt;e,  and  uhen  we  remember  that 
the  energies  of  the  power  which  has  accomplished  so  much,  are  unim- 
paired, that  a  comparatively  small  amount  of  that  power  has  been  ex- 
erted in  the  production  of  these  results,    we  find   much  to  embolden 
hope  and  animate  exertion.     When  too,  we  reflect  that  we   must  still 
be  far  from  the  limit  of  human  knowledge,  that  there  are  many  things 
in  heaven  and  earth  not  dreamt  of  in  our  philosophy,  that  nature  has 
secrets  not  yet  revealed,  precious  truths  as  yet  undiscovered,  that  she 
has  haunts  to  which  she  has  never  been  pursued,  unexplored  recesses 
where  treasures  of  knowledge  are   hid; — when  we  call  to  mind,  that 
of  the  books  of  the  Sybil,  we  have  seen  but  three;  and  that  of  the  vast 
volume  which  Nature  opens  before  us,  many  leaves  remain  to  be  read; 
the   mind  is  filled  with  bold  thoughts  and  ardent  hopes!     If  so  much 
i  has  been  accomplished  by  a  divided  power,  what  might  not  have  been 
1  achieved,  by  the  universal  mind,  exerted  under  more  favourable  circum- 
;  stances.     But  a  more  practical  enquiry  suggests  itself:  Over  the  past 
I  we  can  exercise  no  control,  but  upon  the  future  we  may  exert  an  in- 
I  fluence.     When  so  much  remains  to  be  done,   what  may  not  we   and 
I  our  posterity  accomplish,  if  acting  upon  the  a^lmitted  truth,  that  the 
\  magnitude  of  the  result  is  in  proportion  to  the  power  employed,  we 
;  are  careful  to  developeall  the  resources  of  the  human  mind,  and  array 
all  the  intellectual  strengtli  of  mankind?  Is  it  presumptuous  to  predict 
that  we  may  greatly  enlarge  the  boundaries  of  human  knowledge?  Our 
J  predecessors  are  our   pioneers  in  science,  we  easily  advance   to    the 
position,  to  which  thev  have  opened  the  way;  we  begin  our  search  after 
truth,  at  the  point  where  their  discouerics  terminate,  Avith  the  princi- 


1  truth,  a 


16 

plea  they  established  as  our  auxiliaries,  and  the  lights  they  kindled  as 
our  guides.  Wh>  can  doubt  that  Philosophy  is  destined  to  achieve 
new  triumphs,  that  she  is  to  discover  new  and  mighty  truths?  Of  the 
nature  of  these  truths,  we  must  be  ignm-ant.  but  of  their  existence  we 
cannot  doubt.  We  know  that  there  is  immense  space  beyond  the  ho- 
rizon which  bounds  our  sight,  \nd  we  know  too  that  as  we  ;ippr  tach 
this  apparent  limit  of  liuman  vision,  it  retires,  never  indeed  en- 
larging its  circle,  but  adopting  at  each  remove,  a  new  centre  and  ci- 
cumscribing  a  new  portion  of  space.  As  we  proceed,  new  prospects 
open  before  us,  and  new  objects  are  presented  for  our  observation.  So 
as  we  advance  in  knowledge,  truths  always  existent,  but  hitherto  un- 
seen, will  pour  theii  lighi  into  the  mind,  as  from  time  to  time,  tlie  radi- 
ance of  some  ne'v  star  reaches  us,  after  a  fliixht  of  ages,  and  looking 
op,  we  behold  a  new  glory  kindled  in  the  heavens. 


iFtnf«. 


1 


